Screaming. . . 

Was it in her dreams? Cassie opened her eyes, unsure. Unfortunately, her head was like a block of lead. Her heart was aflutter, her mind was split in two, racing against time and space in both locales.

As she lifted her head from her forearm, it took her a second to piece together the facts and dismiss what was fiction.

At that moment, there was a bang against the hatch. But no one immediately entered. The noise that followed—crashing mostly, and a screech that could only be the result of excruciating pain—was garbled into echoes, but there was enough commotion beyond that impregnable door to draw Will's attention. He stomped past her soon thereafter.    

Will listened, hands and ear pressed to the wood. The door handle rattled, but there wasn't the scraping sound of a key.

Everything went still and silent.

Cassie rose to a sitting position, letting the warm cloak fall off her shoulders. And Will took a step back, sword drawn.

There was no way for them to be ready, however, for what came next. The door blasted from its hinges, launching Will into a horizontal plummet. Both he and the door crashed against the rock wall clear across the area.

In through the open doorway came a cloud of dust and smoke. A faceless somebody came forth, impossible to recognize in the haze.

The power and chaos could only be accomplished with Magical Mechanics—the MacRae form of magic—clearly intensified with fury. Though Joe was the first one who came to mind, the one who stepped into her prison was taller and looked more like . . . Chris?

Her heart continued to beat wildly, even gaining momentum, but her lungs fell empty. It couldn't be. . .

And she was right, she realized, as the face moved closer and her faculties began to return to normal. The one who helped her to her feet was Scott MacRae. "Can you walk?"

Though his voice resembled Chris's, his tone was firm with concern, but she would never mistake that for affection.

Cassie nodded. With his guiding hand on her shoulder, they made their way to the exit.

Will was there waiting for them, blocking their escape.

Scott kept his composure. He merely nodded to the left suggesting to Will that he should step aside.

Will stood his ground.

Then with just a minor flare of the eyes and twitch of his top lip, Scott MacRae had once again flung the massive body of Will out of his way.

Will was immobilized against the wall. Cassie didn't realize the brunt of the invisible magic was at his throat until she saw the life leaving his eyes.

"Don't!"

Scott glanced at her, baffled, and then released him. Will crumpled to the ground, gasping.  

Cassie took it upon herself to kneel beside him. "You'll let us pass. And you will not follow."

He nodded. "Take care of yourself, Princess," he signed.

"Thank you. I will," she replied in his language. "And same to you."

She placed her hand on his cheek and then rose to meet Scott by the doorway.

The rock crevice outside of the door was intermittently engulfed in flames. All of that loose kindling wasn't limited to the enclosed area she had been trapped in.

Scott moved quickly, knowing the way and familiar with the obstacles, like the unconscious bodies. Judging by the rat's nest of hair, the fem-fairy who had been so inhospitable had fallen victim to burns, smoke inhalation, or magic, maybe all three. Nearby was the one named Reginald. His fate was likely the same. Death.

Cassie didn't see how the two of them would survive their injuries. She wasn't sure if she cared. Scott would have done what was necessary, nothing cruel or excessive. So if they died, it was due to their greed and idiocy.

The step-like formation leading up opened into a damp alleyway, one Cassie didn't recognize. Based upon the grime, dilapidation, and the nearness of the West River—she could hear its roar and feel the mist in the air—they were in the Southwest Quadrant, known to be the most crime-ridden section of Pyxis.

But Scott, at the moment, was scaring her more than anything else was. He had only said three words to her since his arrival: Can you walk? Apparently, he had nothing further to add.

They had never particularly warmed to each other. Cassie liked to believe it was because they never had the opportunity. Joe was always around to make them both feel comfortable, initiating and taking the lead in most of the conversation. Perhaps they should have tried working through—alone and honestly—all of the difficult truths undoubtedly on Scott's mind, too, the ones Joe went out of his way to avoid.

"How did you find me?"

It was a start she hoped might lead somewhere.

Scott was a few strides ahead of her, but he paused to rummage through his pocket. He presented on his pinky finger her engagement ring. 

As she took it from him, he slipped off his coat and draped it over her bare shoulders. Scott usually wore formal attire, but his style was more human than fairy, and cloaks were not his outerwear of choice. Regardless, she was warm again and appreciative.

Whatever he felt for her, it wasn't hate.

"Thank you . . . for everything."

He acknowledged her with a slight nod.

Though she stared at it for a while, she eventually slipped the ring back on her hand, now swollen. The break wasn't affecting that particular finger and the ring still fit. But was that where it belonged?

"You had a feeling the ring would surface first, and it did, and the buyer led you to the seller. That was a simple plan, but, rather brilliant."

Scott shrugged. "It was Joe's idea." He peered down at her, perhaps expecting her to look up before he continued. "He loves you. You should do better to remember that."

She had ready for him the perfect rebuttal: "And you have two sons, or did once. I suppose there are things we could both do better to remember. And if I were you and had the power and wherewithal to confirm that, I wouldn't be here, not a single day longer."

He chuckled a bit bitterly. "And if I do find Chris, what then, Princess?"

It was a good question. But she didn't have a good answer.

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